Juniper's Flight

Juniper knew it was time from the moment he awoke that morning.

A crisp wind had blown into the hollow of the large tree, rifling the short twigs of his nest slightly. Although autumn had been approaching for several weeks, the wind on that particular morning was different. Juniper could sense excitement in the air, a tiny zest of something more, like when he nipped a piece of bread from the ground and suddenly tasted a hint of cinnamon in his beak. Yes, today would be the day.

Stretching out his thin legs, he lifted his head from beneath his wing and looked around the cozy hollow. It seemed so much larger without the rest of his family there, flitting about. They had all left together about a week earlier, his mother still trying to coax Juniper into joining them.

“Won’t you be lonely?” she had asked, running her broad wing over the top of his head to smooth down some wayward feathers. “It’s much safer when we stay in a group, and you won’t have to be by yourself.”

“I’ll be fine,” Juniper responded, leaning his head into her wing for a moment. “Really.”

“Just means more wigglers for the rest of us!” Juniper’s older brother, Twitch, swooped past them on his way out of the hollow, and their mother ducked to catch a rubber thimble in her beak as it toppled over from the small gust. Setting it upright, she turned back to Juniper with concern in her black eyes. He stopped her before she could speak again.

“I’ll be careful, I promise. I just have to do this.”

She brought her wing around him and rested her head on top of his for a moment, then moved away to continue herding his other brothers and sisters out of the hollow. He noticed she wasn’t making eye contact with anyone, and she kept picking up items only to set them down again in random locations. When they all finally took off, Juniper watched them go, lifting a wing in a silent farewell as he perched on the edge of the hollow. His mother glanced back at him and offered a small chirp, which he returned as she flew out of sight.

Now it was his turn to leave. He hopped up from the nest and began to collect his things. He picked up a small knapsack that he had fashioned for himself using a piece of faded yellow fabric and a bit of twine. He tested it out, looping the twine around the cinched up fabric and then around his left leg. It wasn’t ideal but it would work. He moved around the hollow, adding things to his pack: gray and white seeds, a shiny piece of foil, extra twine, and several short twigs that he pulled out carefully from the nest. The last item he added was a small scrap of paper. He held it in the tips of his wings for an extra moment, stopping to remember the day he had found it.

It had been warmer then. He and Twitch had been soaring over an orchard with a few of their brothers and sisters, each of them dipping out of sight here and there as they swooped beneath the trees. As they neared a farmhouse that sat next to the orchard, the others had turned back as always, tilting their wings to make big, graceful arcs as they reversed course. Just as Juniper had been about to do the same, he had noticed something fluttering on the ground near the back of the house. He dropped lower to the ground as he approached it. He could tell it was a piece of paper but he hadn’t recognized the image on it. It looked like a page from a book, perhaps belonging to one of the younger children who lived in the farmhouse. He touched down gently, directly in front of the waving paper, and cocked his head sideways to study it.

On the crumpled landscape, Juniper had seen a large white expanse next to a body of water. Standing above the water was a creature he had never seen before. It had two wings and a black beak, just like him, and it stood tall, its white belly protruding ever so slightly over two orange, webbed feet. It looked as though it were preparing to jump, maybe into the water, or perhaps the air? Juniper had noticed how the ground beneath the creature had white, sharp edges. He had never seen the ground look like that anywhere he had flown to before. He stepped on the page with one foot and held it steady while he carefully took the paper in his beak and tore away the corner. He carried the shred back to the hollow with him, lost in thought about the strange image the whole way.

Juniper might have eventually forgotten about the mysterious creature if it hadn’t been for what had happened the very next day. He had been flying solo and he found himself heading back towards the farmhouse, circling it as the sky grew darker. He had noticed lights coming from one of the windows on the lower level and he had decided to move in closer, settling himself on the sill. He could see several figures sitting together as images flashed across the room from a large screen. As he peered through the window at the screen, he had been surprised to see that same white-bellied creature, walking with hundreds of others just like it. Their walk was strange and slow, but then the image on the screen had changed to show a whole group of them diving off a small cliff into a body of water below. When they returned to land, it was that same white ground that Juniper had seen on his scrap of paper, and it seemed to allow these creatures to slip and slide all over its surface. Juniper was transfixed.

He had flown back to the hollow hours later, his mind full of the images he had seen on the screen. He landed at the base of their tree and studied the ground for a moment, brown and green, the same way it had always been. He imagined the winged creature, standing amidst the white rain he had seen on the screen. He looked up instinctively, but all he saw were the leaves high above him. As he pushed off and flew up to the hollow, he glanced at the horizon. It was dark, but he had felt more aware of the depth at that moment than he ever had before. Once inside, he hopped quietly into the nest where the rest of his family members were already fast asleep. He pulled out the scrap of paper from the day before and gave it a long look, then tucked it back in between the twigs on the side of the nest. He placed his head under his wing and settled in to sleep, but his eyes had remained open for a long time.

Another gust of wind blew into the hollow, breaking Juniper out of his reverie. He tucked the paper into his knapsack and pulled the twine tight. With his pack full, he gave his leg a small shake to test out its hold. Satisfied, he stepped towards the opening of the hollow, and as he did he noticed the thimble on the ground, right where his mother had left it. He thought for a moment, then picked it up in his beak and stuffed it with difficulty into his pack. He stepped to the edge of the tree’s hollow, breathing in the cool air. With one last look behind him, he spread his wings and jumped, beating his wings with certainty as he took off towards the horizon.